


White Camellia

by anglmukhii



Series: otayuri week 2017 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, Day Three: Childhood, Fluff, M/M, OtaYuri Week, OtaYuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglmukhii/pseuds/anglmukhii
Summary: From the moment he saw him at camp, Otabek thought that Yuri was the embodiment of perfection. And even with the boy's initial rudeness and temper, his opinion never changes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day Three, here we are! This is short and to the point. It came out a little clunky but I tried. If I had more time, I would've refined it more.

Otabek couldn’t understand how someone could move so gracefully but have the hardened look of a man who has seen the worst of war. And someone so young. Yuri Plisetsky was quiet, but all of the other boys avoided him like the plague. The stare and aura he presented could kill a dozen grown men.

But Otabek found himself oddly drawn to the boy. He was just…what the human embodiment of perfection seemed to be. Despite hating ballet with a passion, he would stay just to watch him. His body couldn’t move like that, there was no way in hell. But watching Yuri enough made him feel like he could do it. He couldn’t, but he was motivated each time.

All for a boy he’d never even talked to.

But there was a dark side to the boy as well. He not only had the look of a soldier, he trained like one. Despite the teacher’s warnings not to overdo or push it too hard, he did so anyway. The scolding’s he got didn’t seem to faze him.

But even the most determined and flexible of people couldn’t keep going forever. The two of them found out that day.

They were all grabbing dinner, they were about half way through the camp today. Half way through, and they’d be done. Otabek could hardly wait. There had to be other ways to make a path for himself in figure skating. He wasn’t flexible, that much was certain.

He was walking by the class and saw Yuri again. Something wasn’t right. Sure he was still at it as usual, but the look on his face indicated…the slightest hint of pain.

But the worst part came when Yuri collapsed. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was overexertion. Otabek didn’t hesitate to run in and to his side.

The boy only scowled, “I don’t need your help, I’m fine.”

Otabek wasn’t listening, “You overdid it. Remember what Yakov said? We’re not supposed to be exhaust ourselves. It could cause damage-.”

“Shut up,” he growled. Otabek didn’t seem fazed but inwardly he was taken aback by the boy’s hostility. All this time, he thought it was just the look on his face. No, the look on his face was exactly how he was. Hostile and unapproachable.

“You want to cause yourself permanent damage?” he was confused. Very confused.

“Shut up already, would you? I’m fine. I just…forgot to stretch is all,” he answered. What a pathetic excuse.

“You need to get something to eat. More than anything, you need your strength. And rest on top of that. Please,” Otabek didn’t know why he was pleading. The boy been nothing but rude and still Otabek found himself caring for his wellbeing.

Yuri was even more confused, but more than anything he was suspicious. This boy was his rival, his competitor. Why was he going out of his way to be so nice to him?

“Why do you care? I’m your competition. Shouldn’t it make you happy that I’m damaging myself or whatever you call it?”

Otabek was really taken aback by that one. He would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so alarming to hear someone so young say something like that. Ballet was just a dance and figure skating was just a sport. Did this child have no concept of friendly competition? Did he see the whole world as his enemy?

“No. Why would I?”

Yuri stared right at him now, “Why would you? Because I’m your enemy.”

That made Otabek laugh. He rarely laughed, but that was particularly funny. He sounded so serious and sincere, how could it not be? Enemy was too strong of a word.

“What are you laughing at, asshole?” Yuri growled. Anyone who knew Yuri knew that laughing at him was a one-way ticket to a black eye.

At this point, Otabek wasn’t surprised by the boy’s foul mouth.

“On the ice, I may be your rival. I’m not your enemy though, this isn’t a war,” he responded once he could stop himself from laughing. He still had the ghost of a smile on his face though.

“Yes it is,” the boy shot back instantly, his scowl deepening. “Everything is a war. If I don’t win, what good am I? I might as well be dead.”

Well, that was disturbing. For everyone Otabek knew, ice skating was important, but it wasn’t a war. It was something that was fun. And now it was all starting to make sense.

His assessment that Yuri looked like a man who’d been hardened by the worst of war wasn’t too far off.

“You might think I’m a joke for saying that but…” he went on.

“I don’t,” was all Otabek could say. He really didn’t.

That stopped Yuri right in his tracks, “But you just said…”

Otabek shrugged, “I know what I said. To me it might not be a war. To the other boys here, it may not be a war. To the world, it may not be. But if it is to you, then I believe you.”

Yuri didn’t say anything then. Usually, if he said that to someone, they’d continue to laugh at him. They’d tell him to chill out or stop being so up his own ass. But this boy had laughed, but then had…actually listened to him?

“From the second I first saw you, I thought that you had the eyes of a soldier,” he went on.

And that absolutely stumped him. He felt a blush creep up on his cheeks then. “Really?”

“Yeah, really…”

They said nothing for a few seconds. Yuri wasn’t sure why that had touched him so much, but it did. Maybe it was because for once, someone was taking him seriously.

* * *

 

“No offense, but you sort of suck,” Yuri said, one afternoon. They were on their lunch break. Ever since that one evening, he and Otabek had been together day and night. Yuri had never had a friend before and Otabek was patient with him. He didn’t annoy him either. It gave him some hope that not everyone on the planet was a complete waste of space. Only his grandpa had held that honor.

Otabek chuckled, “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice. I don’t think I’m going forward with this.”

That made Yuri stop in his tracks and scowl, “So what? You’re giving up?” There was a hint of panic and sadness in his voice. Of course, he had finally made a friend and after this summer, he was probably not going to see him. Of course. And it didn’t help that there was more than a 4,500 kilometer distance between here and Almaty. Why was his best friend from another country anyway?

Otabek shook his head, “Not on skating. Ballet, definitely. There’s no right or wrong way to go about it really. We all have to carve our own path. Ballet isn’t mine.”

Yuri blinked. As far as he knew, ballet had been the only route he’d seen. Otabek wasn’t very flexible, that much was certain.

“But you won’t be coming back here after this summer…” he said flatly.

“No, I won’t. But that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other,” Otabek reassured.

“And how do we do that? You live all the way out in Kazakhstan. I’m here. I won’t be in the Junior Division for three more years. We won’t see each other at all!” Yuri didn’t know why he was lamenting over someone he’d only met a short time back. By default, Otabek being his only friend had made him his best friend. But he was attached. And he hated it.

“We’ll find a way Yura, don’t worry,” Otabek gave him one of those rare smiles.

“How can you be sure?” he asked skeptically.

“I’m not,” he said honestly. “But I’ll find a way…”

* * *

 

Yuri wasn’t so sure. In fact, he was thinking of all the ways to keep Otabek here. For the first time since he’d moved from Moscow, he felt like there was something he could hold onto. Even if it was just a friend. But he had to go home and he knew it. Still, it didn’t make things any better…

On the final day of camp, everyone was packing. They had a bit of class in the morning but everyone had been too antsy so Yakov reluctantly let them off saying that they had done good work. Otabek doubted that was true in his case, but he pretended that it was extended to him as well.

And so he found himself and Yuri walking outside. They had both finished packing early, Yuri not having much and he barely took anything out of his suitcase.

“You write back, yeah?” Yuri asked, hopefully one more time that Otabek didn’t forget.

It was old fashioned, but that’s what Otabek had promised.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll write to you every week at least,” he smiled. Yuri only blushed at the smile.

Yuri smiled back then as they continued on their walk. Their hands brushing ever so lightly every now and then. They didn’t talk much, for being friends. Through their quietness, however, they felt like they could understand each other. And that was it. There was nothing more to it than that.

But Otabek suddenly stopped. Yuri stopped with him and tried to see why when Otabek bent down and picked something up.

It was a flower.

“You know, Yuri, you remind me of this,” he said, presenting it to him. Yuri frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.

“A flower? I remind you of a delicate flower?”

Otabek chuckled, “No. It’s a white camellia. It’s perfect.”

Yuri found himself blushing as he took the flower from his friend.

“Perfect? Me?” he had been called many things in the past, perfect wasn’t one of them. And he didn’t think he was perfect either.

“You are. In your own way. In the only way you can be. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not. I thought you were before and I still think so. But it’s different. But in a good way.” Otabek smiled at him. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t really need to.

 “Yeah. So are you…” he blushed. No more words needed to be exchanged after that…

Years passed. Yuri had made it all the way to the Senior Division at just the age of 15 and he was more determined than ever to win.

He and Otabek didn’t talk as much as they used to, although Yuri couldn’t fault him there. He moved around a lot, so mailing addresses were hard to keep up. He had an Instagram and they followed each other, but they hadn’t really talked over the last year.

Yuri did miss him a lot. But it couldn’t be helped. Even if it wasn’t that true anymore, Otabek was special. He would always be his best friend. And maybe something more. But that was a secret Yuri kept close to his heart.

“Yeah, Yuri, the front desk said that some flowers came for you,” Yakov said as they were going back to their hotel room.

Yuri groaned in annoyance. His fans were insane so naturally it didn’t surprise him that they figured out which hotel room he was staying in. It was whatever, he’d toss it in the trash.

Predictably they were red roses, at least from what he could see. He was about to fling them into the trash when something caught his eye that in turn made him momentarily unable to breathe.

In the center of the bouquet was a single, solitary white camellia. With a note to the side:

_“No matter what anyone tells you, you’re perfect. Always remember that.”_

The flowers he thought he would be throwing away, he ended up clutching them to his chest. A big, rare smile graced his face along with a blush…

**Author's Note:**

> White Camellias symbolize a lot of things. They symbolize purity, perfection, adorableness, steadfastness, and if you give it to a guy it's considered luck. In Japan it means death but I excluded that altogether. Just some trivia! 
> 
> Eh, I'm my own harshest critic, so naturally I don't think this is that great. But, really, I do hope you enjoyed reading this. 
> 
> This will be on my Tumblr, same name as here!


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